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"Captain!" came a voice from inside the hatch. "I want to thank you for saving my men... I couldn't order my tanks to fire, not when they were next to the aliens..."
Sam paused for a second. The commander's voice didn't have the same tone it had over the radio - the self-righteous tone that would not order the tanks to fire was gone.
"Dammit, Commander! My men were out there, fighting... while you bastards sat on your asses and waddled in self-righteousness. Well, we saved your men. At least you showed up at the end..." Sam stood outside the hatch, waiting to throttle the man as soon as his head poked out of the hatch.
He reconsidered his decision once he saw the man clamber out of the tank. His face was grimy with soot, and blood trickled from a small cut on his forehead. The commander was grinning. Sam's made a last desperate attempt to control his anger, and succeeded. Instead of punching the man's lights out, he extended his hand and helped the commander out of the hatch.
Several days later, the cave complex was bustling with activity. Sam Wychin watched as the Russian soldiers set their tanks up beneath camouflage nets in the woods just outside the cave complex. Then, he resumed dragging the sled laden with weaponry and equipment towards the cave. When the unit had left the caves, it was low on all kinds of supplies, from ammo to basic food. Now, after nearly a week of wandering around the Alaskan wastes, Wychin's unit had not only found supplies, but also reinforcements. The Russians, as Wychin had found out, were part of a bigger Russian force which had been scattered by increasing alien attacks. The Russians were able to recover quite a bit of ammunition and fuel for their tanks, although they were still loathe to let any Cold Force troopers near the tanks, waving their AK-47's around and speaking in badly accented English. A weird-looking RADAR dish was deployed off the top of one of the tanks, rotating back and forth. Sam reached the cave entrance. Just inside was standing Kevin Harrison, holding an M16.
"Hey Captain." Kevin said as he nodded.
Sam grunted a 'hello' in return, and let go of the rope he was pulling on.
"Sir, I've got to tell you... not only have we expended nearly all of our M16 ammo in combat, but most of our M16's aren't working..."
"Warranty must have worn off." Sam remarked. "How many M16's we got?"
"Well sir, we've got the one I'm holding, and two more in the caves... both with grenade launchers. Plus, we have a total of nine clips and six grenades... " Harrison shook his head.
"Well, what alternatives do we have?" Sam asked while looking around. He saw the Russian soldiers bustling about way back in the woods, AK-47's on straps around their shoulders... then he snapped his fingers.
"Think the Russians will let us use their extra guns?" Kevin asked.
"I was just thinking the same thing." Sam smiled.
A little while later, Sam Wychin had assembled most of his troops in the largest cave chamber which served as the impropmtu headquarters for the Cold Force. Several Russian soldiers were present as well. Sam raised an AK-47 in the air.
"Well guys, here's the solution to our problems. As you all know, we picked a few of these toys off the wrecked tank column.Well, we're gonna use 'em. Our friends here " he patted a Russian soldier on the shoulder, "say that this is an arctic model - designed to withstand the extremes of where we are right now. There's plenty of ammo, though it's not infinite. So from now on, the AK-47 is your friend." Sam surveyed the room.
Leon McManus spoke up. "Why can't we just use those plasma guns stashed in the corner over there?" he pointed at the pile of blue and gray guns and clips lying around in a corner of the cave.
Sam drilled McManus with a stare. "Do YOU know how to read one of those ammo gauges, private? Do you know how to load in a new clip when your old one runs out? Do you want to fight with half-full clips and have to reload every two shots?"
McManus looked back. "I know how to use one of those, sir. I remember
how to read an ammo gauge. I... "
"That's enough out of you, smartass private. I'll talk to you later.
" Sam interrupted as he waved at the rest of the group. "Dismissed!"
The soldiers rose up and began to filter out.
Sam was about to go and have a sincere, heartfelt word or two with private McManus, when he was approached by Mike Thornside, waving a spiral-bound notebook.
"Not now, private... " Sam blurted out as he passed by.
"Sir, this is about those plasma guns... I can get them working - I've
got some research notes I took back at XCom."
"What was that, private?" Sam stopped in mid-stride, stood for about
a second piecing things together in his mind, and then spoke. "Hey McManus...
let's see if you actually do know how to use one of those suckers. " Sam
waved a hand at the pile of alien weapons. "Go help Mike figure those things
out." He looked back at Thornside. "Private - if I hear a single one of
those weapons going off inside this cave, I'll know where to look. If you
want to fire 'em, go outside. If I hear anyone screaming because they've
been shot by a plasma gun, I'll have you quartered." Sam grinned - but
he certainly wasn't joking.
"Yes sir!" shouted both privates. As McManus started to walk away, Sam put a hand on his shoulder.
"Private, I hear any more lip from you... you're gonna be in a world of shit." Sam whispered. "You got me?"
"Yes sir." McManus returned. He scowled as he turned around, and whispered when he was a safe distance away from the Captain. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again - I hate Alaska."
Written on October 21st by Andrew Pokrovski AKA Captain Sam Wychin